My brother took me to Lush on Wednesday night. When we talked Tuesday, I was telling him that missleigh had told me it was pretty casual. He said, "Yep, you can wear your Birkenstocks...and your Edie Br!ckell hair." Huh? OK, maybe he has a point.

My father-in-law died on Monday night. Jeff got a call from his sister after I'd gone to bed. I didn't find out until Tuesday night. I'd told my coworker that I didn't have a good feeling about it that day. He'd had hip replacement surgery in November, but had complications including two small heart attacks while in recovery. He stayed in ICU for a while, and they were here in GA for over a month. He was finally able to go home right before christmas. Then last week he had another heart attack. On Monday, he refused life support.

We went to SC on Thursday morning. We left an hour after we should have because Jeff was trying to get that piece of shit seat cover I paid almost $80 for to work. He ended up just tucking an old comforter all the way around the seat, and cutting a hole in it to thread his leash through. Yes, we had him restrained. It was for his sake, so I didn't kill him. Anyway, we got there around 4:00 and hung out with his mom and niece until the viewing or wake at 7:00. Talk about awkward. His Dad is really his stepfather or adoptive father. He grew up in an orphanage, but had a daughter and son from previous relationships. Both of them showed up after not being much a part of Bob's life for so long. Jeff's mom said it made her nervous since they'd not been around before. I don't want to judge anyone since I didn't see my own mother before she died. I was in touch with her, but still. Yes, I know it's not the same situation.

It really hit Jeff harder than I thought it would. He was really upset, and I was not sure what to do. I have a hard time telling how to comfort someone and not be confining or something. We talked last night, and he said he wishes he'd have been man enough to tell him he was sorry (for all the shitty things he did as a teenager) before he died. He wants to tell his mother while he still can. I told him that I'm sure they knew, and that they were proud of him, though that might do little to comfort him now.

I can understand. For whatever reason, I never saw my mother again. The last time I saw her was when she came to my Dad's house and the cops were called. After she died, I wrote her a letter of all the things I wanted to say and ask but never got the chance. I'm not sure if it helped me at all, but I mentioned it to Jeff. I don't think he's the type to do anything like that, though.

The funeral was the next day. Awkward and sad. It really got to me when a friend of theirs from their old temple here in GA was talking about Bob's love of animals and his old cat Tigger. Tigger was put to sleep about a year ago, and was probably 14 or 15 years old. I just remembered him and Tigger, and how he'd play with our cats and dogs whenever he came over.

As annoying as he was sometimes, he was a loving and generous father-in-law. I guess I, too, feel like there's something I should have said or done.